


TLC

by tatoeba



Series: domestic!fanxing verse [2]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Domestic, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-02
Updated: 2013-04-02
Packaged: 2018-10-19 10:54:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10638399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tatoeba/pseuds/tatoeba
Summary: yixing is always there to take care of yifan.





	

**Author's Note:**

> [prompt](http://imagineyourotp.tumblr.com/post/44064153072/imagine-person-a-getting-a-fever-and-body-aches)

Yifan shifts in bed, trying to get comfortable under the covers. He groans, body aching from the fever he’s been fighting over the weekend, the pain making it difficult to ease into slumber. He pulls his right arm out from under the blanket and grabs his phone to check the time.

It’s two in the morning and he groans again, peering at the screen in annoyance like it’s his phone’s fault that he can’t sleep.

“Yifan?” Yixing murmurs beside him, rousing from the bright light of Yifan’s phone, and he quickly sets it away as Yixing pulls himself up into a sitting position, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” Yifan says, guilt creeping up his spine and waking Yixing up in the middle of the night, too. “Go back to sleep.”

“You don’t seem fine,” Yixing says, reaching out to press his palm flat against Yifan’s forehead. He makes a soft noise of contemplation and then pulls the covers over. “Your fever hasn’t broken yet. Since you’re up, I’ll get your medicine.”

Yifan feebly catches Yixing’s wrist before he slides out of bed. “Hey, don’t worry about it,” he says. “I can do it. You should go back to sleep.” He pauses, narrows his eyes. “And didn’t I tell you to sleep in the extra bedroom? I don’t want you to catch what I have.”

Yixing smiles at him, scooting back to his side on the mattress and brushing Yifan’s slightly damp hair from his face. “I can’t sleep in there. It’s lonely,” he says, and despite his sickness and the possibility that he might end up making Yixing sick, too, hearing him say that makes Yifan’s heart swell. “Also the sun rises from that side and it wakes me up too early.” He pouts and Yifan laughs, flicks at his nose.

“Well, don’t blame me if you end up sick, too,” he says and Yixing shakes his head, slipping back out of bed.

“Wait here, I’ll be right back,” Yixing says, and he disappears into the adjoining bathroom to grab Yifan’s medicine. Yifan hears the faucet run for a few moments before the rush of water cuts off the silence fills the apartment again. Yixing pads back out with a glass of water and pills cupped in his other hand, stopping by Yifan’s side of the bed to hand them to him. Yifan gingerly sits up to pop the pills into his mouth and down the glass, and the water feels especially refreshing.

He sighs, satisfied, and sets the glass onto the bedside table next to his phone as Yixing climbs back into bed. Yifan settles back against his pillows as Yixing lays down beside, making sure to not get too close and make his body hotter.

Yifan shivers involuntarily, and the aches in his body only seem to increase. He tries to close his eyes and go back to sleep but the fever is distracting. He tosses and turns for what feels like hours, but is only a few minutes because then Yixing’s hand finds his under the covers, squeezing gently.

“Still can’t sleep?” he asks, and even in the darkness of their room Yifan can clearly see the concern in his eyes.

He shakes his head. “Aches,” he mutters, feeling a little pathetic because he’s a grown adult and he’s had fevers before, he should be able to deal with all of this without whining about it.

But Yixing doesn’t care, smiling kindly at him again and sitting back up. “Where?” he asks and Yifan raises a brow at him, not sure what Yixing is planning to do. Yixing blinks at him expectantly though and Yifan replies, “Legs, mostly. But it’s kind of everywhere.”

Yixing hums in acknowledgement and pulls the covers off of Yifan, throwing him an apologetic look at Yifan’s instant shudder. “Let me help,” is all he says, before he’s reaching over Yifan to pull open the bottom drawer on the bedside table. He rummages a bit before retreating with a small bottle of lotion.

“Are you giving me a massage at two in the morning?” Yifan says incredulously, and Yixing just chuckles, squeezing lotion into his hands and rubbing them together. He peels off Yifan’s loose pair of sweats and presses his palms to his thighs. The cool slickness of the lotion is startling and makes Yifan shiver again, but then Yixing is slowly and gently kneading his muscles with his fingers and the sensation is immediately effective.

Sighing in pleasure, feeling the most relaxed he’s felt in hours, maybe since his fever hit early Friday morning, Yifan sinks back against the pillows and lets his eyes fall shut.

“Feels nice,” he whispers and he can sense Yixing’s pleased smile even though he can’t see it. “Where did you learn to give massages like this? Have you been holding out on me?”

Yixing’s laughter is soft and comforting, and his hands move down from his thigh to his calf. “I’ve never done this before,” he says.

“Lies,” Yifan says, disbelieving.

“It’s true!” Yixing says with a laugh. Yifan hears the bed creak a bit as Yixing moves over to the other side to work on his other leg. “I just want to help make you feel better, is all.”

Yifan peers his eyes open again, blinking in the darkness until he can make out the lines of Yixing’s form in front of him. “Hey,” he says softly. “You’ve helped me so much. The past few days would’ve sucked without you.”

“I know,” Yixing says. Yifan can see the pull of his lips into a smile even though he’s staring down at his hands slowly massaging Yifan’s thigh. “I like taking care of you. Because you always try to be so tough.” He turns to Yifan then, eyes narrowing. “Like if you’d properly stopped to eat during your shifts, you wouldn’t get sick in the first place.”

Yifan laughs, but it turns into a cough and pulls at his chest. “Ugh,” he grumbles, rubbing his face with his hands. “This sucks.”

“Such a baby,” Yixing teases, finishing up his massage and pulling Yifan’s sweatpants back on. He climbs over him and back to his side of the bed, yanking the covers over them and presses a kiss to Yifan’s temple. “Better?” he asks, rests his head on Yifan’s shoulder.

Yifan nods. “Much,” he says, his whole body feeling lighter and nearly two hundred percent more comfortable. “Thank you,” he breathes into Yixing’s hair, his hand slipping between them until he can thread his fingers with Yixing’s, press their palms together.

“Get some sleep, Yifan,” Yixing says, leaning back to kiss his forehead again, fingers gently brushing along the side of his face as Yifan’s eyelids flutter and sleep finally comes.

-

“I still think it’s funny that you managed to get sick at all. You’re supposed to be a _doctor_ ,” Yixing says around a mouthful of rice.

Yifan hands him a napkin and replies, “Doctors aren’t invincible.” Yixing dabs at his face with the napkin, before balling it up in his fist and letting it roll onto the kitchen table. Yifan woke up that morning feeling the best that he has since he got sick, managing to even pull himself out of bed so they could eat breakfast together in the kitchen. His fever hasn’t quite yet broken yet but the constant aches are gone, which has definitely lifted his spirits.

“If I catch your cold will you take care of me Doctor Yifan?” Yixing questions. He smirks at him mischievously.

Yifan leans close to him and says seriously, “I’d take care of you even if I wasn’t a doctor.”

Yixing’s expression twists into disgust and he shoves Yifan away, palm pressed flat against Yifan’s face. Yifan laughs, loud voice filling the kitchen, as Yixing says, “Ewww, is it part of your job description to be a sap, too?”

“No, that just comes naturally, but I know you love it,” Yifan retorts.

“I think I like you better when you’re sick and vulnerable,” Yixing mutters, getting up to put his empty dishes into the sink. Yifan follows and Yixing takes his plate from his hand and sets it into the sink as well. He reaches for the sponge and dish soap to clean up but Yifan tugs at his elbow and pulls him toward him.

“Thanks, Yixing,” he says and Yixing blinks at him curiously.

“For what?”

“Taking care of me,” Yifan says, rolling his eyes at Yixing’s obliviousness.

Yixing’s mouth forms a little “o” in realization and then he grins. “Well, we all know you’d be lost without me,” he says cheekily and jumps away laughing as Yifan pinches his waist. “Also you’re not completely better yet, so go back to bed!” Yixing adds, waving his hand toward the bedroom, soap suds from the sponge flying into the air.

“Yeah, yeah,” Yifan grumbles, and even if he’d much rather stay out here and bother Yixing he knows he’s right. He’ll only get better if he rests properly. He still catches Yixing in a hug, squeezing his waist and pressing his lips to Yixing’s cheek, and a laugh bubbles out of him as Yixing shoves him exclaiming, “Gross, don’t give me your germs!”

Cackling, Yifan heads back to the bedroom, Yixing’s irritated muttering following him out, and thinks that with a little more rest and Yixing’s presence he’ll be better in no time.


End file.
